Ready, Aim, Fire!
by sefie
Summary: Chris Redfield's eventual fall from glory.


(author's note: Ok, ok. I've done it again. This is probably the most twisted fic I have ever attempted to create and while it mostly stars Chris Redfield, it has quite a few cameos from the rest of the game. It should be pretty obvious, but if you don't get the real theme, make sure to read the article clipping in the end. ;p)

--rhea@mayaku.org

Ready, aim, fire!

Chris Redfield fired his glock and smiled in satisfaction as he saw it take out the figure in front of him in one hit. A headshot. That's how it was done.. nice, fast trauma to the head would do it every time. He looked to his right and pulled the trigger two more times to take out a woman and a child who resembled a zombie.

Chris continued to walk through the Mall. As he walked, shooting random undead, he whistled along to a nameless theme. Days later people would remark to the press and cops that he was wearing a grin that suited a mad man. Chris shot more zombies, and they were the more clever ones. Ones that were pretending to be regular people. Ones that were pretending to read. Ones that were pretending to eat real food. It was okay though, they didn't fool him and neither did their rather human-like screams.

Jill Valentine hadn't been able to fool him either. He'd shot and killed the zombied version of his partner, lover and potential best friend earlier in the morning. Chris had woken up to see that her face was now covered in dry, peeling dead skin. It was also all scabbed over. She had smiled innocently at him, which only made her more repulsive because it showed off the gaping holes that decorated her face, and asked him if he wanted to do something before breakfast. He had replied yes and reached underneath the bed for his firearm. He had emerged with a gun and he had shot that bitch ten times in the head. Sorry baby. So sorry. Too bad you were one of them.

As he wandered around, ocassionally fragging a random "zombie", Chris realized that he was above and beyond Umbrella and their zombies. Yes indeed. He was the best damn cop and he was a Redfield; put those two things together and you had a winning combo. Trigger happy Chris, the fastest finger in the West! West meaning the whole continent of North America because he couldn't settle for less. Fastest finger, fastest finger: he wasted four more zombies that were by the elevator and stepped inside it.

Upon exiting the elevator, he murdered fifteen more zombies. It couldn't really be called murder though, could it? They were bad, he was good and it was as simple as that. Besides, they were already dead, weren't they? Reanimated, yeah, that's the word. No, he couldn't be a murderer.. he shook the thought by emptying his gun into a few undead that were wearing cop uniforms and shouting at him to "stop".

Speaking of cops, he had a hard time ridding himself of Leon Kennedy, who also (suprise, suprise) had become a zombie overnight. He had looked pretty normal if you didn't count the fact that half his face was rotting off. Chris had went to shoot him but Leon had shot back. He had barely dodged it. But all's well that end's well, isn't it? Leon was now a dead corpse opposed to a living one.

He could almost picture describing it to Jill, had she been alive: "Leon's not coming in to work tomorrow, babydoll," his smile grew larger. "Hey.. come to think of it, neither are you!" This set off a burst of laughter and he waited until it died to make his move to the foodcourt. Lots of hungry zombies would be there, all waiting to sink their teeth into his skin. Oh no, lord no, that wouldn't do. . .

"Chris!" He turned around. His sister was standing to his left, holding a gun in her rotting hands. She was a zombie. His own blood was a fucking monster. He looked her up and down, slowly raising his glock. Must. Eliminate.

"Chris, stop. STOP. ST--" He fired and she rolled to the side; her stiff, bloated arm took all six bullets. She started screaming in pain as she looked at her arm and then into his eyes, trying to realize what was going. They were nothing but vacant spheres..

"Sorry sister, that's how it goes. Win some, lose some. You just lost by becoming a bad guy." Chris was getting tired of this charade; she was a zombie and she was to be killed. The voices told him so. He reloaded his gun and stared at the zombie, who looked like she had just given up for the last time. He fired three times at her chest.

She didn't just die though, no, that would be too good for Claire. Instead, she managed to speak: "Chris.. may god have mercy on your soul." And then she was dead. And those words haunted him. Haunted him so much that he decided to go to the men's room and splash his face with water, to cool off. To think. He wasted two more zombies who were inside the bleak room and turned the cold tap water on.

He sighed, flung the water onto his face, looked at himself in the mirror and gasped. His face was blue and white, riddled with gashes. His eyes were bloodshot. His cheek had a deep rotting hole in it, from which, he could see his teeth.

He, Chris Redfield, was a zombie. He was one of them. His smile faded (but hey, he could still see his teeth because of the hole!) and he stared. Then with eerie calmness, he lifted the glock to his head and put his finger on the trigger.

b-bbbang.

****

The following is a clipping from the New York Times:

Local man goes on a killing spree after being dumped.

by Albert W.

On July 28th, a former officer named Chris Redfield, executed himself after killing over 300 civillians at the Mall. This appears to be a crime of passion and police suspect that his girlfriend at the time, former fellow officer Jill Valentine, had told him it was over. After this fact, authorities believe that he went nuts and killed Valentine and a few other close aquaintences, including his sister, Claire Redfield, and former fellow officer, Leon Kennedy. Then he went to the mall and proceeded to raise hell.

The Redfields will be sorely missed. Funeral services for the two will be held at St. Joseph's Funeral Home at 8pm tomorrow evening. Anyone who wants to is invited to attend.


End file.
